


Suspicious Minds

by astro_jen



Series: Paint This [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Families of Choice, Family Issues, Friendship/Love, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith willing to fight anyone and everyone who hurts shiro, Kolidad, M/M, Pining Keith (Voltron), Prequel, Protective Shiro (Voltron), Sad Shiro (Voltron), Slow Burn, Teen Romance, hints at future romance, keith and Shiro having a wholesome friendship, keith paints through his feelings, the rise of art hoe keith
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2019-10-15 16:39:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17532371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astro_jen/pseuds/astro_jen
Summary: Never in his life has keith felt comfortable or settled, and he expects that will never change. So when he attends his seventh high school and is saddled with yet another overbearing foster family, he figures it’s only a matter of time until he’s shipped off again. But maybe this time is different. Maybe he’s found something that will break the pattern. Maybe he’s found someone that actually needs him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> okay I know it’s kind of bad form to write and release a prequel before the main story, but I couldn’t help myself. these two disasters needed to be brought to life. also I feel like posting this will motivate me to actually work on the next part. I’ve estimated this to about 4 likely short chapters as I mostly just want to establish the background before I can get to the ~main event~. sadly that means that most of the characters will be introduced in the next part as that takes place in about 4 years time after this :((

Keith didn’t bother to hide the roll of his eyes when his new principal told him that the class president would be giving him a _special welcome tour_. He didn’t shake the hand that that said class president offered him when they met. He did, however, spend far too long staring at the unexpectedly carved muscle attached to it. Maybe he had been watching too many high school movies with his new foster siblings, but he had anticipated the class president to be some kind of insufferable loser. He did have evidence to back up the stereotype, this was Keith’s seventh high school. All of the previous ones blurred to a predictable pattern of uninspired repetition. He figured this one would be the same.

But then he found himself actually listening to the boy spouting rehearsed bullshit about the hallowed halls of this fine institution. Maybe it was the comically fake enthusiasm, peppered with droll double entendres that Keith couldn’t help snigger at. Takashi Shirogane, or ‘call-me-Shiro’, had some height on him, but he purposely slowed his stride to match Keith’s. Maybe he realised that as much as Keith did not care, he was very eager to drag this out as long as they could. Less time in class, of course.

“And this is the pool,” Shiro beamed as the chlorine assaulted Keith’s nose, “I’m on the swim team, so I spend a lot of time in here.” He punctuated the statement with a too-cheery wave to the guys hanging by the poolside. “You into any sports?”

“I’m not much of a team player,” Keith deadpanned. Shiro nodded slowly and gestured for them to move on.

Keith tried his best not to stare, but the large bandage fixed to the older boy’s nose wasn’t exactly subtle. He had assumed that Shiro was an athlete of some kind, probably football, and that it was just some kind of tackle gone wrong. But he couldn’t imagine the dark bruise that leaked out from under the bandage to be caused in a pool.

Still, it’s not like he cared. When they finish this stupid tour, they’ll most likely never speak again. There was no need. No scenario in which this shiny golden boy would bother entangling himself with Keith. Even if there was, he wouldn’t be around much longer.

“So why the change of schools?” Shiro eventually asked.

This time Keith did smother the urge to roll his eyes, “my old one burned down.”

“Holy crap…seriously?”

Keith raised his eyebrows, “no.”

Silence fell amongst them once more after Shiro choked out a laugh. Which was disappointing, Keith wasn’t trying to be funny. He wasn’t trying to strike up a conversation, or forge some kind of friendship. Although he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to hear that laugh again and again or see those dark eyes crinkle in amusement.

***

Remarkably, Keith had actually survived long enough to make it to lunch break. He just wished that the food was more remarkable. This school might have nicer architecture and more attractive class presidents, but the cafeteria was death. He sat alone, but not for lack of trying. His new foster brother had tried to sit next to him, until Keith managed stare him into submission and he fled with some feeble excuse.  
He was cherishing the solitude, ignoring the hundreds of obnoxiously loud students surrounding him, when someone else dared sit in front of him. Suddenly he felt watched, not by the boy next to him, but all the perplexed eyes around him. To his credit, Shiro was either a very good actor, or he simply didn’t care about the obvious attention his choice of seating had curated.

When moments passed and neither had spoken, Keith finally gave in, annoyed that he was the one to relent. “I was fine here on my own, take a break from your community service.”

The corner of Shiro’s mouth quirked up, and Keith noticed the tiny wince that followed. The injury across the bridge of his nose must be quite fresh. “I’m not sitting with you out of obligation.” He laughed before continuing to devour his food.

“Then why are you?” Keith furrowed his brows.

Shiro paused, as if he were carefully considering his reply, “do I need a reason?”

Keith shrugged casually, “most people do.” He noticed Shiro’s smile turn sad and he instantly regretted saying anything. “Besides, who says I want you here? I was enjoying the peace,” he was careful to emphasise the annoyance in his voice.

To that, Shiro snorted, “well maybe I could use some quiet too.”

***

Keith knew better than to settle into a routine, it was a waste of time. So when he started _expecting_ Shiro’s unwavering presence at what was becoming _their_ table, he couldn’t help but feel frustrated and disappointed with himself. This current foster family did seem suspiciously kind and determined to integrate Keith no matter how standoffish he was. But, as history showed, it was only a matter of time until the novelty wore off and they gave up, sending Keith on to burden the next misguided family.

He clutched his packed lunch as he walked to school with the eldest sibling, Hunk. He was another one that wouldn’t give up and leave Keith alone. He was always pestering him, even after Keith snapped at him he’d only retreat for a minute or two. And he was becoming more brazen as time went on.

“You’re gonna love today’s lunch, Mom makes the _best_  laulau,” Hunk enthused.

Keith chuckled, “I don’t doubt it.” It didn’t take long for Keith to realise that the Garret’s definitely had the best cooking out of all the families he’d stayed with.

In the three weeks Keith had been staying there, he learned that Hunk can’t cope with silence. So he wasn’t surprised when he had already moved onto another topic of conversation. Something about his physics project, Keith couldn’t keep up—or more, didn’t want to.

“So…how come you and Takashi Shirogane are friends?” The question wrenched Keith’s attention back to reality. When he only glared in response, Hunk continued hesitantly, “just that I’ve seen you sitting together at lunch recently…and you don’t let me sit with you.”

“I’ve never said that you can’t sit with me,” Keith pursed his lips. It was true, he’d never _verbally_  told Hunk to get lost.

Hunk furrowed his brow, “just strikes me as odd is all. Like how did you guys even meet? He’s a senior and we’re just juniors…” When Keith didn’t reply, Hunk’s eyes widened conspiratorially, “is it because, you know, he’s gay too?” His voice lowed to a whisper, as if he were saying something scandalous. Keith halted abruptly. That’s what he gets for sharing.

Without thinking, he reached for Hunk’s shirt collar and pulled him down so that their eyes met. Hunk let out a surprised yelp at Keith’s sudden aggression. “Shut. Up.” Keith quickened his pace and left Hunk frozen in shock.

He knew he should be angry, and he was. But his anger was somewhat eclipsed that he knew Shiro’s _leaning_. No. He shook his head, as if the gesture alone could dispel the stupid thoughts conjuring in his mind. So what if Shiro is gay, it makes no difference. Yeah, the guy is hot, there’s no point in denying that. And he’s kind, and charming, and genuine, and always manages to inexplicably coax Keith out of his shell. But Keith couldn’t act on this information. Shiro was just being a good guy. And Keith wasn’t out to ruin that.

    ***

  
Half an hour into lunch had passed and Shiro was yet to appear. Keith guessed he’d finally had enough amusement and went back to whatever he did before he decided to annoy him, or protect, or whatever. He couldn’t imagine there being a bad bone in his body, what with all the gentle smiles and unwavering patience, but everyone had their limits. Honestly, it’s surprising that Shiro lasted this long, sitting in silence for ninety percent of their time, and the other ten percent being Keith dodging well-intentioned questions. Feeling somewhat dejected, Keith pulled out his overused sketchbook. His social worker had gifted him it for his last birthday, and Keith had been determined to stretch out its use as long as possible.

It didn’t take long for him to lose himself in the process, until scuffs of chairs and obnoxious laughs were dulled by the scratching of pencil against paper. His work was rather disjointed and crowded due to his conservation efforts. But Keith kind of liked it that way. There was no page with just one single sketch, they were all one cohesive sprawl of his own creation.

“Woah...” Keith jerked his head upwards to catch sight of Shiro’s looming figure staring with awe at the sketchbook. His dark hair was tousled and dripping wet, and his skin had a certain glow it. Keith instinctively tried to conceal his work, but it was too late.

“Sorry I’m late, swim practice ran on,” Shiro sat down and shook his wet head for emphasis, laughing as Keith was assaulted by the spray. It was annoying as hell, but an embarrassing laugh still escaped from his lips as he pathetically tried to shield himself. “Can I take a look?” Shiro gestured to the sketchbook that was now safely tucked under Keith’s elbow.

No. Definitely not. No one has ever looked at Keith’s art, if he could even call it that. This was the closest thing he had to a diary, and there was no way he was going to bare his messed up soul to someone like Shiro. He pursed his lips decisively, “they’re just stupid doodles. It’s really nothing interesting.”Shiro nodded slowly in understanding and Keith shifted uncomfortably. Before Keith could try change the topic, Shiro was gathering his things again. Panic flared through Keith, this was it; now he was really fed up.

“Come with me, I wanna show you something,” Shiro spoke softly, instantly quelling the rising dread in Keith. All he could do was silently nod and follow the other boy.

***

Shiro grinned as he held open the door for Keith, who just crinkled his nose in confusion. “Y’know, we’ve already done this tour thing…” Shiro easily walked ahead, forcing Keith to follow like a stray puppy.

They had reached the end of the corridor and slid into an empty classroom by the time Shiro gave any sort of explanation. He picked up a large black folder and brought out its contents for Keith to see. The slight hesitation in Shiro’s grip didn’t escape Keith. It made his stomach churn to think that Shiro was comfortable sharing something so intimate with him. Pointless. But his attention was immediately captured by the cacophony of colours displayed before him. Paintings, watercolours, collages, designs…it was good. Really good. Not just the technique, but the shading and the colour choice was like nothing Keith had ever seen.

“This is my portfolio…I’ve applied to a few art schools. Still waiting to hear back though.”

After some time of Keith gawking at Shiro’s art, he realised he had to say something. He tore his gaze away to meet Shiro’s eyes and winced when he saw the subtle worry twisting his features. “Uh…” Keith began. He cursed himself. He was never good with words, especially when it mattered. “This is…this is…inspired?” Shiro’s eyes widened and the concern melted away. In its place was an amused smirk. Keith coughed, averting his eyes, “no, I mean—shit— I can’t think of the right word…”

Shiro chuckled, “am I so good that a smart mouth like you is left speechless?”

“Ha, don’t flatter yourself,” Keith rolled his eyes, “but yeah, it’s good. Amazing, even.” Was that better? He tried his best to convey sincerity without divulging too much. Shiro seemed satisfied enough and removed himself from his perch on the counter to grab some paper and paints. He placed the supplies in front of Keith who shot him a quizzical look in response.

“Why did you bring me here? Why did you show me this?” Keith asked. He needed to know what the hell Shiro’s game was. With every interaction he became more and more impossible to predict. Keith was so used to recognising patterns and then tuning out until he was shipped off to the next location. But he’d never met anyone like Shiro before. “Actually…why do you keep sitting with me? If you’re worried about me settling in—don’t. I’m fine on my own.” Keith resolved.

Shiro looked rather taken aback. And then he frowned, almost imperceptibly. “You must think of me as someone that’s so altruistic,” he laughed with no mirth, “have you not considered that I just enjoy being around you?” He met Keith’s eyes and and frowned some more when he caught sight of the doubt, “I’m not as happy and as popular as people make me out to be…and I don’t know, you’re funny, in a different way. In a good way. You don’t seem to have any kind of agenda. And honestly, I kinda felt like you could use a friend. And, well, so could I.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, the weight of Shiro’s words hanging between them. Keith felt strange. Uncomfortably strange. Was it guilt? Confusion? Was this what it felt like to be seen? He jumped when Shiro made a move, just to pick up a paintbrush. Keith’s eyes lingered as he watched his deft strokes against the paper. The room was so quiet that he could hear each and every one of them. He figured Shiro expected him to do the same, but Keith still had no intention of going there. So he just sat and watched Shiro apply colour after colour in no discernible fashion or form, creating a medley of tones.

“What happened to your face?” Keith asked, partly to diffuse the tension, partly because he’d been dying to know. He caught Shiro stiffen slightly and stop painting. Something shifted in the air, and regret surged in Keith.  
But then it was over, Shiro’s smile had returned and his eyes crinkled, “why you asking that just now? I’ve had this thing for weeks.” His voice was light and unwavering, as if rehearsed. Keith merely shrugged in response. “Well, there’s a reason they tell you not to run by the pool. Slipped and landed face first into the tile. Hurt like hell.”

Keith nodded, hiding his doubts. He knew a bullshit story when he heard one. But it seemed like a sensitive issue, and he could respect that. For now.

“You know, this is probably the longest conversation we’ve had.” Shiro smiled, “heck, probably longer than all of our conversations combined.”

Keith chuckled, reaching for a paint brush, “I thought you said you liked quiet?”

“I don’t know…Something tells me that you don’t enjoy peace so much after all.”

Keith rolled his eyes before dipping into the black paint. “I’m not gonna, like, do anything, okay? I’m just testing out how shitty the paints at this joint are.”

The satisfaction was evident on Shiro’s face, that much he couldn’t hide. Maybe they were getting somewhere after all.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet Kolidad! Also, yikes...

  
“I don’t know why you’ve been so reluctant to share your work, Mr Kogane.” Keith shuffled his feet awkwardly as he tried to avoid his new art teacher’s gaze. Usually, being held behind after class usually meant something very different for him. Hearing _praise_ was so foreign, it twisted his stomach into an uncomfortable knot. Ms Pratchett muttered more awe, before offering some improvements for his next piece. “We’re very glad to have you here,” she smiled before finally releasing him.

***

The art corridor now filled him with a strange sense of belonging. Mostly due to the fact that this was where he spent the majority of his time these days; between class, and his lunchtimes with Shiro, obviously. He gave a cursory glance to the students’ artwork that was plastered across the walls before dipping into a classroom. Shiro was already waiting, absentmindedly stirring a paint brush in some murky water. Keith let out a weak cough to announce his presence, and Shiro beamed at him. He couldn’t help but match the grin as he took his seat.

“I have some news,” Shiro’s voice was tinged with excitement, “I got an interview for a nearby college…”

After his brain took a moment to process the information, Keith’s eyes widened, “that’s…that’s amazing! When is it?”

Shiro grinned sheepishly and averted his eyes. The bandage did nothing to conceal the blush creeping across the bridge of his nose. “Not for another few weeks, and even then, it’s only an interview.”

Annoyed by this, Keith furrowed his brows, “oh fuck off, this is your freakin’ dream, you don’t shut up up about the ‘joy of art’,” Keith deepened his voice to a mocking imitation of Shiro’s, which evoked a chuckle. “Seriously, this is good Shiro. Be proud.” He added, somewhat dazed and awkward.

Shiro’s smile softened before he busied himself with the paints again. “Anyways, I need to work on some additions to my portfolio. It’s a good school, so I need to make sure my work’s really at their level. Plus, they have a few scholarships—but only for students that excel.”

Keith nodded in understanding as he bit into his sandwich. Man, Mrs Garret even made sandwiches taste like a delicacy. He made a mental note to savour the food as much as he could whilst he still had time, god knows what junk the next place will force on him. Shiro cleared his throat, breaking Keith’s concentration. “So…have you given any thought about what you wanna do after school, y’know, college or whatever?”

He hummed thoughtfully, as if he actually had options to consider. In all his house hopping, he’d never had the stability or time to consider a future for himself. The thought of what came next when he was truly left to fend for himself was…unsettling. “Dunno, really. My pop was a fireman so I’ve kinda got this half baked idea of following in his footsteps. Though, I doubt they’ll be overjoyed to recruit a runt like me.”

After the words left his mouth, the realisation that he’d mentioned his dad dawned on him. That wasn’t a topic he spoke about, with anyone. But, was Shiro just anyone? He subtly scanned his face to see if he had picked up on it. He prayed that he didn’t—Keith was never eager to explain how he became an orphan.

“No offence, buddy, but you _kinda_ seem like the type of guy that starts fires, rather than puts them out…” Shiro nudged Keith’s side playfully, ever so slightly melting his icy anxieties. He snorted in agreement. “But seriously, is that what you really wanna do?” Shiro’s eyes hardened in a way that hadn’t been there before. Keith was beginning to realise that it was very characteristic of Shiro to constantly meander between jokes and severity. It was beyond frustrating, the way he carefully coaxed Keith into letting his guard down and then striking before he realised what was going on. But Keith wasn’t so easily fooled now, he was learning Shiro’s careful language.

After considering his words, Keith shrugged, “I don’t see why not. Not all of us have prospects y’know.” Guilt immediately coursed through him. That didn’t come off as glib and casual like he had intended. That was too revealing, and disrespectful to his dad. In a lame attempt to change the direction of this conversation, Keith stood up, “I gotta head to physics early, something about catching up on some work they didn’t do at my last school…I’ll ca—”

“Wait,” Shiro cut in, rising to his feet so fast that he knocked over the cup of water. “Shit…” He groaned whilst Keith grabbed a handful of tissues to help clean up.

“Idiot.” He smirked. Shiro pouted as they mopped up the mess. Their fingers brushed at one moment, and Keith berated himself for the sickly joy the gesture evoked in him.

“Please don’t sell yourself short like that…you have so much talent and ability…” Shiro spoke softly as he reached under the table for the scattered brushes.

Keith rolled his eyes, “look you don’t have to say that to try make me feel better, I know how things are. Besides, you haven’t even _seen_ my work.”

An odd silence was all Keith received. He furrowed his brow when Shiro finally lifted himself up, his face plastered with dread. His fingers began to grip the edge of the table. Somehow he already knew the answer before he even asked.

Shiro scratched the back of his neck and averted his eyes, “uh…I thought you knew. Uh—” Shiro tried to speak, but Keith was already storming into the hall. “Keith—wait!”

The walls. The stupid fucking display walls. Keith’s ears were throbbing with pressure. He probably walked past his own art a dozen times today alone and didn’t notice. Why? Because he’d let his guard down. Because he dared to feel _safe,_ as if that’s something someone like him could ever even imagine. He should have held back, really, it was his own fault. Him and his stupid fucking ego; desperate for validation, filled with Shiro’s pitiful encouragements. He didn’t have anything to prove to anyone— these people would only be blips in his accelerating timeline. His knuckles were white hot now as he screeched to a stop on the linoleum.

Somewhere in the hall, Shiro’s desperate voice was breaking through Keith’s haze. But it wasn’t enough. Nothing would be enough. He was so stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. A trepid hand crashed onto his shoulder, twisting him around and forcing him to meet Shiro’s concerned face. But Keith wrenched himself free, refusing to tear his eyes from the disaster in front.

“Keith, it’s okay, it—”

“It’s not okay! Stop acting like you understand,” the acidic words were spilling from his lips uncontrollably, “you don’t even know me! You don’t know anything…” This would surely be enough now, not even Shiro could have the patience to endure this. Somewhere in the racing chaos of Keith’s mind, something considered stopping. A fragment of clarity. It was one of those moments in life where you found yourself on a precipice. He didn’t have to fight. He knew this was irrational and melodramatic. But he still teetered dangerously over the edge. His pulse quickened.

The painting was affixed right in the centre of the gaudy display frame. Arranged quite hastily among other works from other students. Keith wondered briefly if they were proud to see their efforts hung up for all to see. Maybe. Maybe not. Not that mattered, when Keith was faced with his very soul pinned and mounted for all to see. It felt so wrong, so invasive. The fear and dread was bubbling over into a hot incoherent mess in his mind. He could feel every single nerve in his body pulsing. His fingers shook and he unclenched his fists. The blood thrummed violently in his ears now. Every sense in his body was reaching a violent crescendo. Then it all stopped.

Shards of glass rained all around the two. The cacophonous crash sobered Keith up enough that he caught a glimpse of the wreckage around him. He was too numb to discern any actual pain, but he did feel a broad arm yanking him to his knees. Then, all he could smell was chlorine and cedar. His own breathing was ragged, but it was eclipsed by the erratic heaving of Shiro’s warm breath against his ear. What had he done?

***  
  
Three weeks. A period of time that pitifully small ought to be some kind of record for Keith. Maybe it was, if you ignored the two days he spent with a very overeager foster mother last year. After that _incident_ , his poor, weary social worker had to add “must not be under the delusion that homosexuality can be cured” to his requirements for Keith’s next home. Keith questioned why that hadn’t been a parameter in the first place. His increasingly tired social worker had just frowned, as if Keith were the one that was being unreasonable. It was one of the memories of Kolivan that he liked to keep at the forefront of his mind, incase he started feeling any kind of attachment to his unyielding presence.

The voices in the principal’s office behind him were escalating again. He tried to tune it out, but fragments kept echoing around the starkly silent waiting room. He slumped further down in his chair, careful to avoid the fresh wound that sliced a clean gash just above his jaw. He couldn’t remember feeling it happen, he couldn’t really remember any of it. Maybe that was a good thing. The sooner he left all of this, the better.

“— _a delinquent... mindless damage to school property_ —” The principal’s faded voice spluttered.  
“— _just a troubled kid_ —” Kolivan protested.  
“— _how much?_ ” Mrs Garret spoke the most softly of the three.

Keith groaned. He had no one to blame but himself. He didn’t deserve a clean getaway after this stunt. But he still wished for mercy.

 _No such luck._ Shiro’s figure appeared in front of him. It took all the strength he could muster just to look up at him. There was no discernible anger on his blank face, just a hint of sadness. Great, the last thing Keith deserved or wanted was pity. He kept his gaze fixed on the hardwood floor below him as Shiro wordlessly sat beside him. They continued like that for some time, just sitting in silence except for the occasional faded voice from the other room.

Eventually, he let his eyes wonder, soaking up as much as he could before he was out again. Keith’s breath hitched when he caught a glance of the bandage on Shiro’s tanned forearm. He had hurt him. He had hurt the only person that had been stupid enough to show him any kindness and patience in this damn school.

Shiro must have noticed Keith’s staring, as he finally broke their silence. “Hey,” he gently lifted Keith’s chin up so that their eyes met. He melted into the contact, losing all shame about the strangeness of the action. “I know what you’re thinking, but it’s just a scratch, honestly…” He flashed him a reassuring smile.

Keith swallowed, pulling his face from Shiro’s eye level. “I hurt you…God, this is so fucked up,” he clenched his fingers through his dark hair, “I-I’m _so_ sorry, just…just leave me alone, please.” Keith pleaded, praying that Shiro would just take the fucking hint and get on with his life.

Shiro, did not. Instead he furrowed his thick brows and lowered his voice to a level that was so soft yet stern that Keith just about passed out. “Look, we don’t have time for this, here’s how you can make it up to me,” he paused expectantly. Keith managed to choke out some kind of noncommittal noise that seemed to satisfy him. “They’ll call us both in soon, and I’m gonna say some stuff that won’t make sense, okay? But just go along with it, no matter what I say. Promise me?”

Without thinking, Keith nodded—not even entirely sure what he was agreeing to. All he knew for sure was that he’d do anything for the boy beside him, a fact that was both electric and terrifying.

The door swinging open cut off whatever Shiro was about to say next. Principal Ashton frowned and gestured for the boys to enter. They both stood up at the same time, and Shiro flashed him a small conspiratorial wink before striding into the office.

***

Whatever master plan Shiro had concocted, it better be good. Although, after sitting for the past fifteen minutes and being forced to listen to the principal berate him, Keith wasn’t sure anything would be worth it. He wondered if anyone else in the room was actually still listening by the time Mr Ashton has reiterated the devastating effects on the school’s creative culture. He even went so far as to call it a hate crime. And whilst Keith was in no way proud of what he’d done, this jerk was really blowing it out of proportion.

“May I please remind you that the only artwork that sustained any actual damage was Keith’s…” Kolivan grumbled, presumably nursing a migraine.

Ashton’s ridiculously red face grew even more puffed out and flushed at Kolivan’s interruption. “May I please remind you, Mr Kolivan,” Keith had to suppress a snicker, in all these years he’d yet to determine whether that was a surname or not. Even as he heard the principal spit it out, he wasn’t so sure, “that Mr Kogane’s work was created with _school property_. Such a devastating loss to the art department…now, where was I…”

Mrs Garret took that small gap in the principal’s speech and offered a calm voice, “Yes, it’s unacceptable…However, as I explained before, we are more than willing to cover the costs, and Keith do everything he can to make this right.”

At that, Ashton finally shut up, if only briefly. He drew a long, scrutinising gaze over Keith. “Yes, well, at the very least, I suppose that’s something we can arrange. But that doesn’t change the fact that this vandal is a danger to our school’s fine community. Financial costs aside, how am I to assure the students’ safety if I allow him to walk amongst them every day after a disaster like this? Think of the irreparable costs to the school’s creative spirit…And, well, he injured a fellow student!” He gestured to where Shiro sat, suspiciously stoic. “What good is my word to the parents, when our very own class president was injured under such circumstances?”

“It’s really only a scratch—” Shiro tried to interject.

“ _As I was saying_ ,” Ashton spoke, “after considering your compliance on covering the financial aspect of this incident, and taking into account Mr Kogane’s, er… troubled past, I am willing to avoid expulsion. On this occasion.”

Kolivan let out a long, overdue, sigh as he scrubbed his face with his hands, probably electing to give himself the rest of the day off. But Keith didn’t relax, sensing that he wasn’t quite in the clear yet.

“However, a crime as severe as this demands an equally severe punishment…” Ashton began again, voice sounding dry and forced, “I feel it’s only fitting that Mr Kogane receive three weeks suspension, followed by three weeks detention, all of which will be on his permanent record, of course.”

Keith slumped in his chair, not even listening to Mrs Garret’s impassioned protest. Personally, he couldn’t wait to have some time away from this circle of hell.

“Excuse me, Principal Ashton, but could I please say something?” Shiro spoke in his most diplomatic voice. Ashton looked mildly angered by the deviation, but nodded regardless. Shiro cleared his throat, and all four pairs of eyes were on him. “Keith’s not completely to blame, I-I, well, I’m ashamed to admit this…but I provoked him.” Shiro hung his head. Keith raised an eyebrow at the performance.

Kolivan spun towards Shiro, and hissed, “what do you mean _provoked_?”

Shiro hitched his breath dramatically, “well, you see, we were just joking around in the art department…and I took it too far. I teased him about his work. It was insensitive of me, I didn’t consider how much it meant to Keith…and his painting was displayed without his consent…”

For the first time, everyone in the room was speechless. If Keith weren’t so stunned, he’d laugh at Ashton’s gaping mouth. He looked like a fish.

Kolivan finally broke the silence, “well, doesn’t sound like mindless damage to me now, does it?”

“Th-this can’t be…Shiro, Mr Shirogane here, well he’s a star pupil, a role model…” Mr Ashton squeaked, unable to process this new information.

“I know,” Shiro said, awash with guilt, “It was cruel of me, I wasn’t thinking. But it would be unjust to punish Keith so severely, and let me off the hook.”

“It damn well is!” Kolivan growled.

Ashton removed his glasses, shakily, to pinch the bridge of his crooked nose. Keith almost felt sorry for him. “Well, under the light of this new information…I guess I should redistribute the punishment. Mr Kogane,” he turned to Keith, “I will lift your suspension, and instead you will complete three weeks detention. Lunchtimes and after school, first aiding in the repairs and then cleaning art supplies…after that you can do some administrative assistance with my secretary. I want to keep my eye on you,” he narrowed his weary eyes, before shifting in his seat to reach for some paper to scrawl on. Muttering details to himself. “Thank you both for your time,” he spoke to Mrs Garret and Kolivan.

“What about me?” Shiro asked.

“Yes,” Kolivan spoke through gritted teeth and leaned closer to the principal’s desk, causing Ashton to retreat slightly. It was quite a sight, Keith mused. The large, burly—yet suited, social worker practically bearing his teeth at the pale, scrawny principal. “You can’t crucify Keith and let this bully off with a slap on the hand.”

“B-but Shiro is our class president! Our star athlete! This is highly out of character, and we can’t risk interrupting his swim practice, the—”

“Excuse me? Keith is a new and vulnerable student, under your care, no wonder he lashed out if a thug like this is your so-called _star pupil_!” Kolivan spat, “Look at him, I doubt he got that shiner kissing babies!”

Kieth gaped, spinning towards Shiro, who was beginning to appear a little fazed. But still, he shook his head firmly at Keith, mouthing, _‘you promised’_. The whole room felt like it was spinning out of control: Mrs Garret threatening to take this to the PTA, Kolivan’s forehead vein throbbing, Principal Ashton just about ready to wet himself, Shiro, somehow an oasis of calm.

“Alright!” Ashton stood, slamming his hands on the desk with an unimpressive force. He looked rather embarrassed by the outburst, but preceded still, looking to Shiro, “as a consequence of your involvement in this unfortunate event, I will also have to punish you. I guess, it’s only fair…” he began to mutter, “so, you will also spend the next two weeks in detention, with Mr Kogane, repairing the display and cleaning supplies. As the local competition is in three weeks, you will only carry out your sentence after school.” Kolivan looked set to protest, but Keith shot him a pleading look. “After all, young Shirogane here may have been a factor, but he is not the vandal here. And I will not have the school’s team disadvantaged by this.”

Keith finally deflated. He tried to meet Shiro’s eyes, but the other boy’s gaze was firmly locked on the floor. He still couldn’t get a read on him, no matter how he tried.

  
***

  
In the end, Keith was sent home early that afternoon, to “cool off”. This led to a very awkward walk home with Kolivan and Mrs Garret. Keith scuffed his feet as he walked sandwiched between the two. He couldn’t face Mrs Garret— not after what he’d put her through today. And one look at Kolivan’s disapproving frown would just set him off again. So they all shuffled in silence, their terse aura starkly contrasting the sunny sky and gentle breeze.

After what felt like a lifetime, they reached the house, where Kolivan’s sleek black car was haphazardly parked by the kerb. Keith gulped, imagining the mood he must have been in when he arrived just hours ago.

Mrs Garret fumbled her keys at the door, “would you like to come in for some coffee, Mr—er—Kolivan?” Looks like she wasn’t particularly sure of his name either.

The pointed glare that Kolivan flashed Keith was enough to keep him from even thinking about laughing. “No coffee, thank you. Just a talk with this one.”

Mrs Garret nodded slowly as she led them inside. The unusual quiet immediately threw Keith off as he sat at the dining table. For the first time since he arrived, their was no army of annoying brats running and screaming everywhere he looked. The usual smell of sweet baked goods was replaced by a stark scent of bleach. Keith realised that he must’ve interrupted Mrs Garret’s cleaning.

Kolivan yanked a chair out and sat opposite Keith, staring him down. Feeling risky, keith feigned a yawn and stretched himself out. “Do you not _want_  to stay put? Is that it?” Kolivan leaned closer, “do you just get off on dragging me all over the state just because you felt like throwing another tantrum?”

“Yeah, ‘cause everything I do is centred around you,” Keith hardened his gaze, “I just got bored today and thought, ‘hey, ya know who I haven’t seen in a while? My ol’ buddy, Kolivan!’ So I ran up to art department and smashed a frame so you could stop by and say hey.”

He heard a sharp and disapproving gasp from where Mrs Garret was busying herself in the kitchen, and swallowed the resulting guilt it evoked.

Kolivan just frowned. “You’re such a brat. Can’t you see what an opportunity you’ve got here?” His words were sharp, but his tone was just tired. “The Garrets are good people, and they’ve welcomed you into their home. You’re at a good school, they’re recognising your talent—you could really fit in here, Keith. But no,” he folded his arms, “you just can’t let things be easy.”

Keith gaped, speechless. Instinctively he wanted to yell and storm off. Cause a scene, scream the house down, get sent away. But a strange sense of regret quelled the urge. Just as he opened his mouth, Mrs Garret appeared behind him and lay her hand on his shoulder.

“Keith, honey, you know we just want you to feel happy and settled. Today doesn’t change that,” she squeezed reassuringly, “but if you’re not happy here, we won’t take any offence. I just want what’s best for you.”

It was then that he stopped, to actually look at where he was. He could probably replicate all the stupid childish drawings pinned to the walls by now, he found himself looking forward to mealtimes, he’d even gotten used to the sound of Hunk’s snoring every night. This was a home, but it wasn’t his. All he’d done was bring pain to this family. It was selfish and conflicting, but he didn’t want to leave.

Keith turned turned, “Mrs Garret…” he spoke, uncertain of what his next words would be.

She smiled sadly, “I told you, silly—call me Jo.”

She had said that, probably every day now that Keith thought about it. She’d always tried to involve him and draw him closer, without overstepping his boundaries. Some small, long-time repressed, part of Keith was desperate to melt into it. To relent. But was it enough? Would it be that easy to just accept a life of peace, and stability, and love? Keith never thought that he deserved these foreign things.

“Jo,” he corrected himself, “I’m really sorry about today—I’ll find a way to pay you back…”

Kolivan grunted, “damn well you will.”

Jo shot him a brief chastising glare, which was enough to cause him to actually retreat slightly. “Don’t you worry about that, I know that you regret it. And I don’t believe a word that idiotic Principal Ashton said about you. You are _not_ a danger or a delinquent, you hear me? You can be part of our family, just if you let yourself.”

Keith wasn’t crying. Keith didn’t cry. He must’ve inhaled too much bleach—that’s why he found himself struggling to swallow a lump in his throat.

“You don’t have to give us an answer immediately, okay? Just keep your head down at school and we’ll see how things go.”

  
***

This was the first rainy day Keith had seen since he’d moved in. All the foster kids were going nuts at it, more so than usual. Even Hunk kept stopping every so often on their walk to school just to point at a damn puddle like they were on an alien planet. Rain! In Texas? Apparently that’s cause for celebration for him. But for Keith, the dull overcast sky made him feel more at ease, like the world was finally acknowledging how shit things were. Then he cringed at the thought.

“Ha! Did ya see that?” Hunk enthused as he jumped forcefully into a particularly enthralling puddle. Keith couldn’t help but chuckle at his child-like glee. “Woah! You laughed!” Hunk exclaimed.

Keith’s features fell back into a frown, “what do you mean I laughed?”

Hunk shrugged in response, “just weird is all.” He paced ahead, moving onto the next body of water. “Hey, is it true that you threw a picture frame at Takashi Shirogane?”

Huh. It hadn’t even been twenty four hours. Keith had to admire this school’s efficiency when it came rumours. “No I did not throw a picture frame at him,” he sighed.

“Oh…just that’s what I’ve heard. Y’know what people are like though, coming up with all kinds of crazy stories, like one time…” Hunk began another rambling story. Keith would’ve tried to keep up with this one but now he was too aware of the looming dread of today. He tried to clear his mind. Do those bullshit things like focus on his breathing, or the patter of the rain against the asphalt. But all he could think of was pouring glass and Shiro’s blood.

“So yeah, just cause Shiro turns up with a black eye today, people are saying all sorts, crazy isn’t it?”

Keith froze. “What do you mean a black eye?”

A trace of regret showed on Hunk’s face. He scratched the back of his neck, “oh, I dunno…just my friend texted me saying that Shiro looks like he was dragged to school today…”

***

Time was stretching at a ridiculously slow rate. Keith spent the entirety of double English getting told off for not paying any attention. He was paying attention, just not to the teacher. He had spent the whole time fixating on his phone screen as if he could will Shiro into texting him. Even though they’d never actually texted apart from Shiro giving him a heads up if practice had ran on. As if Keith were sitting every lunchtime desperately waiting for him. Even if he were, Shiro didn’t know that! Keith tried his best to cool down, the last thing he needed was Ashton getting any whiff of trouble from him. Still, the pent up anger and frustration coursed through him with no outlet to escape. He was trapped in a cycle of torment. He was pissed at Shiro, for smothering him, and bothering him, and lying for him. Now Keith was indebted to him. Was that why he covered for him? The thought of Shiro having predictable and malicious intentions was comforting, but just not believable. No matter how hard keith tried to remind himself that Shiro was no different, thoughts of peacefully quiet lunchtimes, welcoming smiles, and unwavering attention flooded his mind. And now he was mad at himself for being mad at Shiro because he had no right to be mad at Shiro. He slinked further into his chair with a heavy weight on his chest.

If Hunk and his stupid fascination with the goddam rain hadn’t made them late, he could’ve confronted Shiro before first period. Now he’d have to wait until detention after school. The anticipation alone was causing his veins to freeze up.

***

  
Mrs Pratchett kept flashing Keith sympathetic smiles every two minutes. He wondered if her pity had anything to do with this whole ordeal being her fault. Keith groaned as he slapped another coat of paint onto the freshly plastered wall. This had to be against some kind of child labour laws. He’d spent the entire lunch break with this wall and the reminder of what a screw-up he was. At least the mundanity had kept his restless mind somewhat focused.

Soon enough Shiro burst through the door to the hallway, panting, “sorry I’m late Mrs Pratchett, Coach Iverson wanted a word…”

Mrs Pratchett beamed at him, “Ah, it’s alright! Keith’s doing a fantastic job—almost as good as new.” She cringed a little, probably just thinking why they were both here, before muttering an excuse to leave.

How could he still look so effortlessly at ease, even with an angry bruise all around his right eye? He’d finally removed the bandage from his nose, revealing the thick gash that ran across his face. Keith’s gut lurched, as if just looking at the injuries was causing him physical pain. Seemingly unaware of Keith’s scrutiny, Shiro lifted up a slick brush and got to work.

“It’s rude to stare, y’know,” Shiro smirked after some time.

Not that he’d admit it, but Keith had spent a lot of time staring at Shiro. Memorising the contours and lines of his chiselled face, losing himself in those steely eyes… So much so that he could probably sculpt a decent replica at this point. And being caught would just be beyond mortifying. But at this point, he didn’t have it in him to be embarrassed. Any instinct was overshadowed by his concern.

“What happened?”

For a split second, he could’ve sworn that Shiro’s immaculate expression faltered. But it was so fleeting that by the time Keith had registered it, the smile had already returned. “Well, if you really wanna know…” his voice dropped conspiratorially, in a way that did _not_ cause Keith’s mouth to go dry, “I stopped by Ashton’s last night and gave him a piece of my mind. If ya think this is bad, you should see him.”

Keith deadpanned, suddenly feeling less sympathetic.

Shiro chuckled, “alright, alright. It’s dumb,” he turned back to the wall, “I walked into my locker door.”

“Is your locker made of lead or something?” Keith frowned, unconvinced.

“Ha! Might as well be. Anyways, what did your social worker say about the whole thing?”

Keith sighed, allowing Shiro to bend the conversation to his liking. For now. “Ugh, Kolivan. He swears I’m sending him to an early grave… What else is knew.” He leant forward to soak the roller in more paint, when he was struck by realisation. “Look, about what you did—”

“I didn’t do anything.” Shiro said.

“Shut up. Look, you shouldn’t have lied for me like that.”

Panic briefly flashed in his eyes, “shhh… It’s too late to take it back, alright. Just keep quiet about it.”

Keith huffed. “I hurt you. I don’t deserve you covering for me like that.” _I don’t deserve you full stop_.

Shiro frowned, “hey, don’t worry about it. I knew Ashton would be way too hard on you. And, besides, this is will do wonders for my street cred!”

“I don’t need your pity, y’know,” Keith gritted his teeth.

He heard a sigh come from Shiro, “it’s not pity, please, Keith. Look— I’m not gonna pretend to understand what came over you— but I can tell that you were hurting. And, well, I just want you to know that I’m here for you.” And Keith almost believed him.

***

The rest of their detention was spent in silence. Not their usual, mutually comforting silence. No, this was prickly and palpable. A painful contrast to Keith’s racing mind. He tried to focus on smothering the wall with paint, and losing himself in the motion. But this wasn’t like when he sits and lets the brush take over. He tried to hone in on the slick sounds of each stroke of paint but he was deafened by Shiro’s breathing.

After what might as well have been years, they finished early. Mrs Pratchett just flashed them a wink and told them to head off.

So the two walked wordlessly through the winding halls. The next two weeks were going to be fatal at this rate. With Keith’s thoughts reverberating against his head, and Shiro’s bruised face twisted into an expression he couldn’t quite pin.

He was overcome with relief when they finally reached the door. He didn’t even care that it was still pouring rain, he’d dance in every damn puddle if it meant he’d be free from this. Keith quickened his pace, hoping Shiro wouldn’t catch on.

“Well, I’ll, uh, see ya t—”

“Wait,” Shiro interrupted, “you’re not walking home are you?” He seemed displeased when Keith responded with a shrug. “I’ll give you a lift, come on.”

“It’s like, ten minutes really…”

Shiro shook his head, “you’ll get soaked!”

Keith didn’t have much pride in himself, but he did believe that he had a solid willpower. However, Shiro always seemed to bypass that. He had tried to protest, but he still found himself sitting in the boy’s old Volkswagen. He hated himself for noticing that it smelt like Shiro: warm cedar with a hint of chlorine and musk.

Despite the van’s obvious age, it was clear that it was well looked after. The black paint still shined, the leather seats hadn’t cracked, there were no dents or scrapes. But Keith couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the makeshift bed lying in the back. Without thinking much, he asked Shiro about it.

“Oh, that…” He pursed his lips, reversing out his parking space. Keith’s eyes lingered on the way his exposed muscles moved in the movement. Shiro was wearing an old grey tee that had now had flecks of white paint along the centre. Keith cursed it for drawing his attention to the way it exposed his smooth collarbone. “Sometimes I crash in here after competitions and between training.”

As Shiro drove, Keith wondered why he was being evasive about it. Then it hit him. Oh. _Oh_. What use would a teenage boy have for a blow up mattress and a van. A frustratingly _attractive_ teenage boy. Keith’s throat felt dry and itchy as he tried to force the thoughts from his head. It was none of his business. None of his business. None of—

“The Garrets’ is just on the left here isn’t it?” Shiro mercifully interrupted Keith’s spiral.

“Uh—yeah. Yeah it is.” Keith choked out.

As soon as the van stopped, Keith leapt out, throwing a strangled thank you to a puzzled Shiro before slamming the door behind him. Thank _god_ he was out of that van. He needed a shower. A cold shower. Maybe two. Before he could dart upstairs, he caught a glimpse of Mrs Garret—Jolene— looking out the window at Shiro’s retreating van.

She smiled at him, “he’s a nice boy isn’t he?” She spoke reverently, “he used to tutor our youngest last year, before we realised that Hunk was a closet wiz kid.” Unsure of where this was going, Keith remained silent.

Unfazed, Jolene reminded him that dinner would be in an hour before busying herself in the kitchen.

Keith flopped onto his bed once he reached his and Hunk’s room, exhausted from the day. He caught a glance of Hunk completely entranced by his video game on the other side of the room.

“Hey.” Keith offered.

“Oh. Hey,” Hunk paused the game and looked at Keith, “wanna play?”

“Sure.”

  
***

Before his lunchtimes were occupied by Keith’s enigmatic presence, practice was the best part of Shiro’s day. All his senses, every muscle, his complete attention, all of it, totally absorbed by the simple movements he made in the water. He could truly lose himself; in these moments he only had one simple and achievable goal. Before he knew it, he was crashing his hand into the pool wall again and letting the air fill his lungs. He looked up to see an unimpressed Matt wielding a stopwatch.

“Not good?” Shiro panted as he yanked his goggles off.

Matt shook his head, “too good. Your new personal best by three whole seconds,” a grin appeared on his face, “you really make it look too easy, you know that right?”

Shiro chuckled, lifting himself from the pool. “Show me how it’s done then, Holt.” Matt smirked in response and tossed the stopwatch at Shiro before preparing to dive in. Shiro shielded his face from the cascade of water that erupted from Matt’s impact; he always had to make a show.

Shortly after, Matt had finished his laps and the two sat by the bleachers and recorded their times. Shiro suppressed a wince when he removed his goggles and they grazed the fresh bruise on his right eye. He thought he’d gotten lucky and Matt hadn’t noticed, but he caught his friend’s glare in the corner of his eye.

“So this is the new bad boy Shirogane, huh?” Matt began, “hanging out with the school’s new designated delinquent, rocking up late to practice with bruises, stuck in detention…the list really does go on doesn’t it?”

Shiro chuckled, “we all gotta rebel sometime right?”

“C’mon, Shiro, cut the crap,” Matt’s light tone grew serious, “why’d you cover for him? You barely know the guy…”

Shiro tossed his clipboard to the side as he stood up. “He’s my friend alright? Look, he’s just misunderstood, he needs someone looking out for him is all.” He hated seeing Matt all serious and concerned, it was too out of character. “Besides, any time away from your meddling is a godsend,” Shiro snorted, pleased when he heard his friend chuckle.

Shiro started to make his way to the changing room. Matt huffed before following him, “how did your dad take the news about your fist ever detention?” His jokey tone had resurfaced, but Shiro knew it was only to mask the concern. He was glad to be facing away from Matt, otherwise he might have noticed Shiro graze his fingers over the angry bruise.

He turned to his friend and shrugged, “he wasn’t too fussed. Just grounded is all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo...that thing I said about the chapters being short……….let’s ignore that. Also if you are a reader of my other fic, JDP, I have not abandoned it!!! I just need a break, I was finding it so hard to write anything and the plot is very ambitious, which didn’t help. JDP was my way of getting back into the swing of writing, back when it was just a small idea. But now it’s clear that the story needs a lot more space to develop, and I just don’t have the skill yet. So I’m having fun writing this in the mean time. Also I rewatched The Black Paladins and wrote a 2000 word detailed plan for this entire plot so I’m all set! Btw Hunk’s mom is too good for this world change my mind.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> angsty boys & burgers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me after two months of silence: *throws an fever induced 2500 word chapter and runs*
> 
> Hey guys! Just wanna say thank you again for all the support on this, and sorry for the sporadic updates. I’ve been struggling to write this chapter since February, and now it’s exam season and I thought I’d never get it done. But I have the flu! Which is horrible for university, but great for forcing myself to write. I decided to cut my losses and post what little I’ve done and then come back with the rest of this chapter after exams when I have more time (and hopefully motivation). Enjoy!

  
The next several days of their sentence were strung into an unceremonious blur. The calm left Keith feeling winded. In the mornings he’d walk to school with the sun in the sky and Hunk’s voice in his ears. He’d spend his lunchtimes mercifully secluded in an art cupboard, washing paint brushes or scrubbing boards. Then there was the monotony of classes. Followed by the bliss of afternoon detention— comfortable silence and the warmth of Shiro’s presence. In the first few days, Keith was convinced that it was all an act, or at least a brief intermission before the final blow. The weight of this ever looming end left him exhausted. Too on edge to sleep, too tired to stay awake. He kept waiting for it. But it never came.

Despite his best efforts, he began to settle and stop resisting. Jo stopped pestering him about the dark circles under his eyes, Shiro stopped sneaking pitiful looks. It was like stepping into icy water— his body seized up and adrenaline coursed through him, but eventually he had to relent and give into the cold.

On the last day of their shared detention, Keith found himself replacing into the warmth of the sunlight that streamed into the classroom and twisted around the clusters of plants and vases. The window sill was littered with various pots and trinkets. Ms Pratchett’s classroom had become so cluttered with oddities that it more resembled a den of treasures. He scanned the paint plastered counter in front of him as he and Shiro stood side by side, hoping to squirrel away every slight detail so that when his time here was gone, he could always revisit these quiet moments in his memory.

“Keith?” Shiro’s voice broke his contemplation. He realised that he’d been swishing the same brush in a cup of water for much too long, and that Shiro was probably saying something.

“Hm?”

Shiro shot him a quizzical look, “you still with me?”

Keith rubbed his face with his pruned hands. “Yeah, sorry I zoned out a bit there. Go on.”

With a dubious glance, Shiro continued his vent about how intense swim practice had become in the lead up to the competition. “Like, it’s now even a big one, just a local competition. And Coach Iverson keeps going on and on about how college scouts will be there…No one seems to believe that I actually want to pursue art…”

“Who cares what they think, it’s your life.”

Shiro frowned. “It’s not that simple…I-I don’t know…” His voice trailed off. “Hey, this is my last day in detention isn’t it.”

Keith struggled to read his face. He was beginning to realise that this was a common occurrence; they would just about reach the precipice of a heavy or revealing topic when Shiro would shut down and change the subject. It was irritating. Usually Keith were the emotional recluse and had spent most of his life honing the skill of evading confrontation. This was probably what he deserved. But that didn’t stop him craving information from Shiro. He was growing tired of small talk and light hearted pleasantries. He needed substance and depth, he wanted to know so much more about this boy, it was driving him nuts.

Reluctantly, Keith nodded in agreement. “Yep, then it’s just me and Ashton’s paperwork…ugh.”

“I’m sure the two of you will have a great time.” Keith’s eyes unwillingly traced the slight movement of Shiro’s lips as he smirked. “Still, these two weeks have flown by…I think we should celebrate.”

Keith eyed him curiously. “Celebrate what? Two weeks wasted cleaning paintbrushes?”

“Well, no not really. Celebrating the end of my sentence…” He rubbed his hand along the back of his neck.

“Alright then…” Keith dried off his hands. “What you got in mind?”

The corner of Shiro’s mouth grew into a sly grin.

***

  
Keith cursed every second he spent in Shiro’s goddamn van. He tried to settle into the worn leather seat and focus on something innocuous, like the stale air freshener that was bleached from sunlight, or the same stupid song that Shiro had been playing on a loop, mouthing along to as they drove. But his eyes kept flicking to the back mirror and stealing glances at the makeshift bed of piled blankets and pillows. He hadn’t noticed the pile of books before, or the collection of empty water bottles. Maybe he’d been too presumptuous before. After spending two weeks with him, the idea of Shiro using this van that he adored so much for…well, y’know, seemed less and less likely. But it wasn’t any of Keith’s business, or his place to judge. He just hoped that Shiro was too focused on the music and the road to notice his discomfort.

“So, now will you tell me where we’re going?” Keith asked, diverting his train of thought.

Shiro chuckled in response as he deftly twisted the wheel around the winding corners of the suburban area they had entered. The streets were lined with impossibly lush grass and looming trees. The houses were nice enough, Keith thought, in a sterile kind of way. He hadn’t seen much of the neighbourhood since he’d moved in. Anything that was outside of the small radius of the Garret’s place and his route to school was a mystery he had no interest in. That’s how it had always been in his door-to-door foster lifestyle. Learn the basics, nothing more—no point.

“I just need to stop by my house first and grab my wallet and let my mom know that I’m missing dinner.”Before Keith could ask any futher, Shiro pulled over and killed the engine in one hurried moment. “I’ll only be a minute, ‘kay?” He flashed Keith a reassuring smile before walking away.

Keith looked at the houses surrounding them and wondered which belong to Shiro. But he strode past those in the immediate vicinity, and then he was out of sight around a corner. Keith furrowed his brows. All the houses here had large driveways, so there were only a couple of cars parked on the side of the road like this. Why had Shiro stopped so far away?

Scrutinising the area had resurfaced a long squashed memory. He’d spotted a treehouse, the typical straight out of a sitcom kind. The very first foster family had a treehouse. Twelve year old Keith had elected to spend most of his time holed up in there, trying to settle into his new role of The Tragic Orphan. Mom, disappeared; Dad, dead. Up there, nestled between branches and leaves, Keith was able to almost pretend it all away. He’d let his mind drift through all these far-fetched scenarios where the tree would catch fire, trapping him with the flames. But then his dad would heroically haul himself up the ladder and hug Keith tight. In some of those fantasies, Keith didn’t even wish for his dad to save them. He just wanted to be with him, even in the smoke.

The memory was immediately shaken from his mind when his phone began to ring. Hunk was calling.

“‘Sup?” Keith answered.

“Hey, uh Mom wants to know when you’ll be home…”

Oh crap. Keith hadn’t considered letting anyone know that he was out. The thought that anyone was expecting him hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“Uh, I’m sorry, but me and Shiro are gonna grab some food I think…” Keith winced with shame. There was a brief moment of silence on Hunk’s end before he could hear a muffled conversation, presumably with Jo.

“Oh, cool! That’s fine, uh have fun I guess.” Hunk’s grin must have been so wide that Keith could actually hear it.

He sat there for a moment, the quiet phone still pressed against his cheek, lost in though. It wasn’t until Shiro was climbing back into the front seat that Keith remembered why he was there.

“All good?” Shiro asked as he buckled his seat belt.

Keith nodded slowly as they left the strangely silent collection of houses and Keith’s curiosities behind.

  
***

  
“This is the top secret destination?” Keith slammed the van door shut and joined Shiro outside. They had arrived at some diner, an old retro-styled one kitted out with neon signs and aluminium fixtures that were blinding in the setting sun. Feeling petulant, Keith kicked some dirt when Shiro didn’t respond. But of course he still followed him inside and sat across from him in a red leather booth.

Shiro grinned. Keith tried his best to maintain his frown. He didn’t like surprises. He didn’t like being out of the loop. He didn’t like how Shiro could drag him to the ends of the earth without so much as a word. This was wrong, stupid and pointless. It was only a matter of time and until him and everything else in this town were all dust in Keith’s mind.

But then he was passed a menu and Shiro ordered them milkshakes— again, ‘to celebrate’— and Keith felt himself melting into the shiny leather and soft sounds around him. Shiro was laughing with the waiter, ordering some ridiculously complex burger, and nothing else really mattered. If Keith ran out now, he wouldn’t even be able to find his way home—to the Garret’s that is. Was that home?

“Hey,” Shiro’s voice was low and his eyes were filled with concern, “you okay? You seem a little out of it.”

He forced a smile, “yeah, just a few things on my mind is all.”

Shiro frowned. “Like what?” And when Keith stayed silent he sighed, “we’re friends— you can talk and I’ll listen, or I can talk and you can listen or let you’re eyes glaze over again and sort out whatever’s bugging you,” he chuckled. “Or we can just relax, eat some food, and not think, or talk even.”

Keith’s heart flipped around in his chest. He leaned forward and took a sip of the milkshake. “Why are you doing this? Did Mrs Garret pay you or something?” He laughed mirthlessly, avoiding Shiro’s eyes.

“Is it so hard for you to believe that I just enjoy hanging out with you?” Shiro asked.

“It’s just— Alright I’m sorry, but you kinda seem like you have it all. Like you’re smart, talented, athletic, popular. I’m just some messed up kid making another pit stop until I move onto the next foster family.” Keith ran his fingers through his hair. “We’ve only been hanging out fir a few weeks and I’ve already gotten you into detention, and I hear what people are saying. I’m dragging you down.”

The air fell into a heavy silence after that confession. This felt like a dream gone wrong. Why had he said all that? God, if Shiro weren’t fed up before—

The flooding in Keith’s brain stilled when his scrawny shoulders were gripped by two thick hands. Shiro’s face was all serious now, no light grins or sad eyes, just a steely resolve that made Keith feel so small. “Listen, I don’t care about any of that, God, Keith. I care about you! And it hurts to know that you feel that way. But I like being around you, you don’t _drag me down_ , you—” Shiro let out a laboured sigh and withdrew his grip. “I’m sorry it’s just, hearing you speak about yourself like that..it’s…it’s not true, okay? I’ll say this as many times as I have to, okay? You’re not a burden, you’re my friend. And yeah, you’re a little rough around the edges, but so what! You deserve a chance at happiness, here, with the Garrets, with this school, with—” He paused when the waiter cleared his throat and deposited the burgers before dashing away.

Keith started at the greasy bun before him. His appetite was nonexistent at this point, but he needed something to focus on. Shiro must have also been reeling as he sat still and looking down at his own food.

Unable to handle the silence or the weight of Shiro’s words much longer, Keith coughed. “So…you come here often?” He asked lamely, gripping his burger before taking a forceful bite.

Clearly stunned, Shiro gaped at Keith before bursting into laughter. “Yeah, me and my best buddy Matt come here after practice a lot,” he chuckled before digging into his own meal. “Is it good?” His words were muffled.

Keith twisted his face into disgust, “ew, don’t talk with your mouth full.” He glared at Shiro before laughing at his despondent expression. Maybe this would be okay.

  
***

Despite Keith’s protests, Shiro footed the bill. The sun had long set and they’d received enough glares from the waiting staff after they sat laughing away the hours without ordering anything else. They’d made there way back into the van when Shiro spoke, “so we good?” His voice small and apprehensive.

Keith paused, “I don’t know, I mean, can I really be friends with someone who thinks it’s acceptable to dip their fries into milkshakes?” He smirked.

“Hey!” Shiro lightly jabbed him on the shoulder, his touch burning. “At least I don’t eat food off the floor!”

“Five second rule! Five. Second. Rule.” Kieth tried to glare but the corners of his mouth betrayed him.

Shiro chuckled as he settled into the front seat and turned on the engine. “So, now what?”

“Hm? Is it not a bit late?”

“Ha! I knew under that ‘bad boy’ guise you were a dweeb! It’s only nine fifteen, cmon the night is young.”

Keith scoffed indignantly, avoiding the mischievous glint in Shiro’s eyes, “did you just call me a dweeb?”

“I sure did, dweeb. Whatcha gonna do about it? Go crying to mommy—” Shiro snorted before freezing up. “Crap, Keith, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

Keith smiled fondly, and placed his hand on Shiro’s shoulder. He wished he could laugh it off. Reassure him that he really didn’t care. That he could say anything to Keith and he’d never hate him. “It’s alright, really.”

A moment passed, and Shiro’s eyes lingered on Keith’s hand still resting on his shoulder. Keith desperately wanted to lean into the touch, to unbuckle the seatbelts and kill the engine and reach over and— He withdrew his hand. With a noncommittal cough, Shiro gripped the wheel and manoeuvred them out from the car park.

“I was only kidding around really, I understand if you gotta go home, you’ve put up with me all day after all.” Shiro’s gaze didn’t waver from the road.

Keith paused. Surely Jo wouldn’t mind if he stayed out much later. When he first arrived, she told him that Hunk and him had a 10pm curfew on school nights. He hadn’t really bothered to take it in at the time. Not like he expected to be out, especially like this.

“Nah, I have a little time. What do you wanna do?”

“Well, we’ll have to stay local…” Shiro hummed pensively. “Oh! I’ve got an idea.”

“Then lets go,” Keith grinned.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how,,,,,do you write,,,,dialogue. hope this was coherent enough lol :)


	4. Chapter 3.5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pools & feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello. thank you for making it this far in. consider this mini chapter as more of a continuation of the previous one, rather than a whole new chapter. enjoy!

By the time Shiro and Keith reached the next mystery destination, the sun had fully set, leaving the van ride dark and comfortably silent. Feeling drained, Keith rested his head against the window and watched the street lights blur as they drove on. The events of day played out in a loop in his head until he recognised the surroundings.

“Dude, seriously? You can’t get enough of this dump during the day?” Keith groaned in tired confusion when Shiro stopped in the school parking lot. His protest was immediately eclipsed when Shiro’s lean arm stretched over the passenger seat as he reversed into a space. Luckily the dark masked the growing flush on Keith’s cheeks.

“Just you wait,” Shiro chuckled cryptically as he swung the door open, “c’mon.”  
  
The pair walked around the perimeter of the school in an unnerving silence. Only the moon offered them a semblance of light. The peculiar white tufts growing in Shiro’s otherwise deep black hair were brought to life. It was hypnotic. Soon enough, they reached a locked door at the back. Keith still wasn’t familiar enough with this place to determine where they were exactly, but the overriding scent of chlorine confirmed his suspicions. Before he could speak, Shiro flashed him a devious grin and a set of keys.

Keith grabbed his forearm before Shiro could unlock the door. “Hey! You _just_ got out of detention! Where did you even get those?” His voice a hissed whisper.

Shiro gently removed Keith’s hand. “Coach Iverson lent me a pair so Matt and I could squeeze in some extra practice before the competition.” He raised his eyebrow, “I didn’t think you were the type to worry about getting into trouble…” His voice was teasing, but the challenge was there.

Indignantly, Keith scoffed, “I’m not! I’m just worried about you, _Golden Boy._ ” Keith casually leaned against the door and raised his eyebrows, only to see all traces of cockiness drain from the other boy’s face. He smirked with satisfaction.

Shiro choked out a cough and averted his gaze. “Why does everyone call me that…” He whined, planting his forehead against the door.

“You’re the freaking class president! When I first met you, you were wearing a sweater vest!” Keith snorted.

“Principal Ashton made me!”

Before Keith could continue enjoying watching Shiro squirm, the sound of approaching footsteps caused them both to freeze. Instinctively, Keith grabbed Shiro’s arm and hauled them both into the bushes. His pulse was loud in his ears, fuelled by the adrenaline of the situation and the heat from Shiro’s body so close to his own. Nestled between the leaves, he could just about make out two figures nearing the door. Shiro gulped beside him. The two figures stopped, as did Keith’s heart. One of them banged on the gym door. With the fear spiking his blood, Keith didn’t even notice that Shiro was still clutching his hand. If they got caught then this was well and truly game over. Keith would get expelled for sure this time, and Kolivan would have to send him away. Away from the house he’d grown accustomed to, the only kids he knew how to act around, video games with Hunk, Jo’s cooking…and Shiro. What would happen to Shiro? Surely even his glowing record couldn’t get him out this one. Wha—

Shiro’s phone buzzed. And buzzed. It felt like ice water had been thrown over the two. Shiro’s panicked eyes met Keith’s as he fumbled for his phone. But it was too late, the larger figure was approaching them. Keith held his breath, frantically trying to think of something— anything— that would get them out of this.

The figure peered over them and Kieth decided to run for it. He yanked Shiro’s arm and hissed, “let’s go!” But Shiro was still, his moonlit face no longer struck with fear.

“Hey buddy,” the person looming over them spoke, “what are we up to on this fine evening?”

Shiro groaned, “bro, what the hell? You scared the crap out of us!”

Now that Keith had rolled out from the bush he could see the figure more clearly. A boy around his age with sandy hair and a shit eating grin. Oh, this must be Shiro’s infamous best friend, Matt.

“What’re you even doing here?” Shiro frowned as he brushed the dirt off of himself. Too dazed from the interaction, Keith willing grabbed the hand Shiro offered as he helped him up.

“Nothing illicit, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Matt’s eyes flickered between the two. “What are _you two_ doing here?”

Shiro scratched the back of his neck, “I was just showing Keith the pool.”

“Riiiight, right,” Matt grinned before turning to Keith, “hey, I’m Matt Holt, by the way.” He extended his hand towards Keith, who just eyed it in return. Matt’s smirk fell at the rejection. “Okay, sorry for spooking you two, we saw your van out front and—if you would just answer your freaking phone for once— but yeah, sorry.” He sighed, kicking the dirt absently.

Shiro squinted his eyes as he looked over to the person by the door. Keith took the reprieve to try get his head around what the hell just happened. “Katie? Is that you?” His voice grew warmer.

The girl reluctantly shuffled over to them. “Hey.”

Shiro let out a laboured sigh, “Matt, getting yourself into trouble is one thing, but risking Katie’s education as well—”

“Are you seriously lecturing me right now? I’m not the one in the bushes with a boy,” Matt interrupted. “Pidge and I are conducting an experiment, we’ll be in and out in no time!”

“I—” Keith stammered.

“How did you even get a set of keys?” Shiro eyed the two siblings suspiciously.

Matt snorted and waved the question away, “I cut a copy of yours, obviously.”

“Y-you went through my things!”

“You left them lying out!”

“Guys!” Katie exclaimed, silencing Shiro and Matt’s bickering. “We’re all gonna get caught if you two idiots don’t shut up. Let’s just go in now before anyone sees us, jeez.”

Keith was left spinning from all the fuss. One minute he’s just getting comfortable around Shiro and the next he’s spectating a hissy fit. A nagging part of his mind told him to just give up, turn around, and leave them to it. But a bigger part reminded him that Shiro had taken him here for a reason; Shiro who saw Keith differently from everyone else, Shiro who had held him so gently just moments ago. Keith was going nowhere.

***

The pool was hardly impressive during the day, but at night, the whole room was transformed. The moonlight that trickled in from the ceiling high windows was reflected by the water, creating mesmerising patterns that rolled languidly along the walls. The dampened echoes and the rhythmic sounds from the water only added to the eerie atmosphere in the building. From his position on the bleachers, Keith could see and hear it all. It was almost serene, if it weren’t for Shiro and Matt’s continued arguing. He’d stopped listening after the first ten minutes. Apparently, the two Holt siblings were there to collect samples of the pool water and _maybe_ rig the filtration system. Matt claimed that chlorine levels were ‘suspiciously high’ and ‘wreaking havoc on my hair’.

A good few feet away from Keith sat Katie Holt, who he had come to learn was Matt’s younger sister, a freshman with too-thick glasses that did nothing to hide her scowl. They could almost pass as twins, what with the near identical shaggy blond hair and nasally voice. The only discernible difference was Matt’s height and inability to shut up. Ever since they had sat down, Katie had been pointedly ignoring Keith and glaring at her brother. He was growing restless, it’s not like Shiro had brought him here to baby sit.

He had begun to zone out again when she twisted round in his direction. “You didn’t say what you two were doing here.” Her words were monotone but her eyes shot an accusatory glare.

Keith rolled his eyes, quickly growing tired of the siblings. “Beats me.”

“What, you just happen to stumble into the school’s pool after dark?” She snorted.

“Ya know, I think I preferred it when you didn’t talk.” Keith spat.

Katie let out an indignant and huff and twisted away from him. “I think I preferred it when you weren’t here.” Before Keith could even process what was said, she stormed off the bleachers and joined Matt by the pool.

Keith was left speechless and alone. What had he done to provoke that? Although, it’s not like he’s here to make friends with everyone. Or anyone, for that matter. Maybe he’d been spoiled lately, that was the usual reception he had come to except.

Moments later, a weary Shiro planted himself down next to Keith. He let out a long sigh as he held his head in his hands. “I’m sorry for—well, all this,” he vaguely gestured towards the siblings at the pool tinkering with the filter, “I really just wanted to show you how cool the pool is at night. It’s calm, and quiet, I thought you’d appreciate that.”

“Well,” Keith snorted, “no offence but this has been everything but peaceful, so…”

Shiro laughed to himself. “Yeah, I really failed on that account.” He turned to face Keith, his smile strained. “They shouldn’t be too long, then I’ll lock up and drive you back home.” He added, apologetically.

Keith flashed him a small smile and a comfortable silence descended on the two. In the dim light, he felt bold enough to risk stealing lingering glances at the boy next to him. The stupidly enigmatic boy that was the whole reason he was in this situation. Now that the gash along his nose had started to heal, he could properly see the severity of the wound. It must be rather deep. His own nose ached just looking at the wound. Even with the angry scar and the faded remains of his black eye, Shiro somehow still looked as kind and gentle as ever. Keith had to mentally pull himself back to the surface, he was beginning to lose himself in the sweeping lines of Shiro’s features once more.

“You talk to Katie?” Shiro doused his wondering thoughts with cold reality.

Keith shook himself. “Uhh, not really…”

Sensing Keith’s awkwardness over the subject, Shiro frowned. “I was hoping you two would get on,” He glanced back to the two down by the pool, that were now collecting water samples, “she’s not the best around new people. Don’t get me wrong, once you get to know her she’s a riot of her own. But at first, well…”

“It’s alright. I’m not much of a ‘people person’ either,” Keith grinned sheepishly.

The two boys shared a weak smile, and all the tension that had been building up in Keith melted away. Shiro maintained their eye contact, and something shifted in his gaze. “Keith, can I…can I ask you something?”

Keith’s swallowed a lump in his throat, torn. This was so out of the ordinary for him. Trust wasn’t something he gave away lightly. He so badly wanted to believe that Shiro was genuine, that Shiro wouldn’t hurt him. But how could he possibly know that? Was it worth the risk? He bit his lip, thinking back to the last time he felt so at ease around someone. His mind drew blank. He was truly in uncharted waters now. But there was Shiro, staring him right in the eyes, so soft and intent. Like Keith mattered. He knew he had to try.

“Anything.” Keith eventually spoke, his voice barely a whisper.

“Uhm, okay, I understand if you don’t want to talk about this but…what happened to your mom?”

Keith blinked. That wasn’t the direction he had the hoped the conversation was steering towards. What had he been hoping for? Some kind of confession? He almost laughed at himself for thinking that, even for a second, that Shiro would ever feel that way for a burden like him.

“Nothing happened,” Keith shrugged. “She was there one day, and just gone the next.”

“What do you mean gone?” Shiro pressed.

“I don’t know, I was just a little kid at the time… I didn’t even notice that anything was up. And my dad never spoke about it. Looking back, he was probably heart broken.” His voice was impassive and emotionless. The words felt foreign on his tongue. Even as he was speaking, he felt like he was describing someone else’s story. This wasn’t his narrative.

Shiro looked more distressed than Keith, his eyes filled with sadness and his shoulders slumped. “I’m really sorry, Keith.”

He chuckled. “It’s alright. It was years ago.” But Shiro looked unconvinced. Whatever, it’ll have to do. Not like he’s been entirely forthcoming either. And Keith’s not going to open up about all the years of being a pseudo-orphan, when they’re behind him. Right now, the boy in front of him is hiding something, he can feel it. It occurred to Keith that now would be a good opportunity to strike— to ask Shiro whilst his guard is down.

“Hey—” Keith was immediately interrupted by a piercing whistle from below. The source of the noise was obvious, Matt, standing with his arms crossed and a coaches whistle between his lips. Even from up there, it was obvious that he’s was smirking. Beside him Katie was struggling to clutch a tank of water.

Matt clapped, “Let’s go children, the grown-ups are finished!”

“Is he always like that?” Keith asked.

Shiro replied with a groan. “Only on special occasions. C’mon,” he sprung up from the bench, “let’s get outta here.”

***

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow i’m bad at this whole “updating” thing. i don’t even have an excuse, i wrote this chapter back in May and intended to add a lot more to it and have it published before i left to go travelling throughout June and July. but i just didn’t. I’m really sorry to anyone that was waiting, I hope this hasn’t put you off. I still care a lot for this fic and I really want to finish it

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! know that i love you all & lemme know what you think  
> 


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